


Pizza Sluts

by AndeliaMaddock



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: 'crossdressing', Alcohol, Costumes, Food Play, Light Bondage, M/M, Pizza, Spanking, Stealing, everyones totally into it though, party streamers, sex interuption, sexy bets, somewhat blackmail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane and Sam have an interaction in the back room that leads to a mutual understanding. They both want pizza, and sex, so why not help each other out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Shane/Sam stealing pizza, kisses and a little more in the backroom of Joja Mart. 
> 
> Really had a lot of fun working on this one.

Sam stared. He held the frozen pizza under his jacket and didn't breathe for several beats. 

“Petty theft, huh?” Shane's face kept to the same expression he always wore at work, with so little variation.

“No! Wh-what makes you think that?”

“Maybe that you just grabbed that from the freezer and brought it back here.”

“I totally bought it.”

“Really. You rang yourself up, or did you get old dead eyes up front to do it for you?”

“She has a name, you know.” Sam felt the chill of the pizza moving into his shirt. Condensation made him pant and squirm. But he held it there anyway. 

“What's her name?”

“I-I honestly don't know.” Huh. In all the months he'd been working there, he'd never found it out. Sam furrowed his brows and leaned an elbow on the employee lounge fiberboard table. 

Shane stepped closer. “I don't either. She's weird.”

Sam snickered. “She doesn't do anything but stand there. She doesn't even do anything on her breaks. I think Morris turned her into a zombie. A work zombie. You know, they're always the ones who close up?”

Shane actually grinned. “I know. Works for me though, I'd quit if they wanted me to lock up very often.”

“Never, though?”

“Eh. So, if you bought the pizza, I could go check, right?” The grin stayed, though it turned down just a bit at one side, and angled itself into more of a smirk. 

“There's no reason to do that.” Sam stood upright.

“Well, if you bought it.” He was so close now, and that infuriating expression held. “How come you're hiding it under your jacket?”

“I just... wanted to cool down.”

“In the Winter.”

“I get very, very hot.” He nodded and tugged one hand at his collar. “It's a medical condition.”

“How hot you are is a medical condition?” Shane put a hand on the jacket, and the pizza underneath. “Alright, say I believe it. You could get in a lot of trouble for stealing.”

“Like you don't.”

“No one's ever caught me. And here you are... red handed. And faced.”

Sam blustered and stepped back. “I'm not red in the face.”

“Whoa, what's that? A mirror, right over there in front of the sink?” Shane opened his eyes wider than Sam had ever seen at work. “Check that out.”

He turned slowly, craned his neck to see. Yep. He was so red. “Shut up, Shane.”

Shane chuckled just a bit, and shook his head. “You're too easy, you know that?”

“I'm not easy at all! I've barely ever even done any—you meant to tease.” 

“Yeah, though, what was that about the other thing?” He put a hand on the wall over Sam's shoulder, and leaned in. “You're not easy, huh?”

Sam could bolt. But Shane was that asshole who might actually tell on Sam. Last thing Sam wanted was to get in trouble and written up, or fired. Especially if he got caught and blamed for all of Shane's petty theft too. “I'm not.”

“Wouldn't mind finding that out myself.”

“You're acting drunk.”

“No, just bored and annoyed at Morris. And finally interested. Took you how long to step up your game and do something fun at work?”

“Wh-what, have you been watching me?”

“Maybe. What else is there to do around here?”

“Your job?”

“Eh.” Shane put another arm on the wall, over Sam. “I can think of more entertaining things to do. Especially while we're both on break.”

Oh. He swallowed, and the pizza crashed to the floor, and skidded between Shane's wide stance.

Shane leaned his face closer. “Fifteen minutes isn't a lot and this is a limited time offer.”

“What is?”

Shane took one step over the pizza, and then brought the other leg closer too. His body all but pinned Sam to the wall.

Oh. He'd thought it might be that. Sam offered a shaky grin, “It's not delivery, it's Shane.”

Shane's lips twisted, and strained. His chest shook. “You.” He wanted to laugh hard, he clearly did. “Shouldn't say that.”

Sam wriggled forward a bit, and pressed himself tighter to the other. “You want to stuff my crust, do you?”

A snort, and Shane's facade almost broke. “Shut up, Kid.”

He chuckled a bit himself, and carefully eased his arms up against Shane's sides. “Maybe. Maybe I'll let you.”

“I'm sensing an 'if'.”

“If you'll help me get a few more pizzas. Maybe let me stash them at your place? My mom's been on this 'healthy foods' kick lately.”

“Slutting around for pizzas.” Shane commented dryly.

“Like you wouldn't if you were in my position.”

Shane's palms rubbed down the wall, then he pulled his arms in, and cupped Sam's round butt. “No, I'm not saying I wouldn't. It's just a comment. No judgment from me.”

Right. Sam cupped Shane's ass in turn. “Always thought you couldn't play around.”

“Well, I'll prove you wrong.” Shane pressed a kiss to his lips.

\--~~--

“Ah, easy!” Sam bit at a knuckle, and pressed himself further along the table.

“It's barely a finger.”

“Well. You have really big hands.”

“... You made it out like you'd done this before.”

He squirmed. “Did I?”

“Yeah. You know, when you said, 'Come on, let's just do it, I've totally done it before, let's go'.”

“Huh.”

“Ok, well I'm not about to pop a cherry in maybe one of the most depressing places to exist.” Shane began to pull away.

“No, no, wait!” Sam pushed back against the finger, and let it slide deeper. “It's fine, this is fine.”

“Just a finger?”

“Maybe... I can get used to it.”

“Maybe.” Shane worked it a little bit, and angled it up. “Like it?”

It was. Interesting. He huffed a little and pressed his forehead to his sleeve. “It's...”

“I can stop, you know.” Matter of fact, while he slipped the digit in, and pulled it back out slowly. “There's always another time. Another place.”

That might be good too. He didn't think in the time they had left he'd be able to stretch enough.

“But I don't mind working you up until then.” He spit again on a hand, and pressed another finger in. “I bet I could get you begging for it before the week's through.”

“No way.”

“You'll say, 'Shane, please fuck me. I need your cock.'”

He snorted. “Fingers are ok, but you're not like, a sex god or anything. My hand's definitely better.”

“Oh yeah?” The fingers twisted and spread out inside. “Is that right? Well, maybe you'll show me sometime.” He pulled his fingers out.

Sam let out a groan of disappointment and glared over his shoulder.

Shane pulled his cock out and beat at it a few times in one fist.

Oh. That was all the stretching he'd get? He wasn't sure about that.

“Relax. I'm not gonna fuck you, remember? Boy, you really do forget things quick.” He stepped closer, and pressed the heavy cock on top of Sam's exposed ass. “But if we're not doing that, we may as well get off another way.” Hand turned sideways, and he pressed fingertips and palm to the small of Sam's back, then began to thrust his cock into the space between Sam's cheeks, up into the gap the hand had.

It was ingenious. He wished he could do something like that. Sam settled for his own (totally great) hands, and worked his cock while Shane's length thrust over him.

“Can't wait until you beg for it.” Shane puffed heavy breath on Sam's neck. “Make you scream.”

“Like I would. For... a weird guy like you.” His hole clenched, and he felt like he almost wished Shane pounded him that hard. Except, well, with a lot more prepwork. He wasn't a fan of pain, thanks. But that intensity, and the growl of that voice. He wasn't one to pray, but he maybe said his god's name a few times under his breath as he jerked.

Shane pulled back, and pumped onto the floor. Come shot out in quick pulses, and arched on the cement ground. 

Sam continued to work himself over, until he got the brilliant idea. He stood up, stepped out of his shorts entirely, and moved the few feet over to the coffee pot. He finished off inside it, and put it back in place. Good as new, with lukewarm coffee, and a bit of a film on top that slowly sank.

“Morris drinks from that.” Shane held that normal, vacant expression. Maybe that was his post-sex face?

“And only Morris.”

Shane's face stretched out a little bit, and slight dimples showed in his cheeks. “Poor guy works so many hours.”

“I just figured he might like some creamer in his coffee.” Sam grinned back.

“You're not so bad.” Shane tucked himself fully away and glanced towards the door. “I'll head back out. And you can clean up, Janitor Boy.”

“Fuck off.”

“Just did. That's what you're gonna clean up.”

Sam shook his head, and began the hop dance back into his shorts.

For cleanup, he just stomped on the come a little, and figured it'd work its way into the floor and no longer be his problem. Or, it could be a mysterious stain Morris fret over and Sam and Shane to smirk about.

He picked up his pizza and put it in his locker. If he cooked it as soon as he could when he got off in an hour, then it would still be pretty decent. And if Shane kept his end of the deal, then there would be more than soggy pizza for him in the future, even on his beans for pay salary.

Maybe Shane wasn't such a bad guy after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Shane have a bet. Who will beg to be fucked first?
> 
> Sebastian helps out, like good friends do.

“So, you don't even get to make your own pizza?”

“Mom wants to lose some weight for when Dad gets home. She says it's important that we all be healthy so we can blah blah blah.”

Shane pulled on an oven mitt, hit the timer just before it went off, and tugged out the pizza pan. The tray clattered on the stove top. “That sucks. Pizza's totally fine to eat.”

“Right? It's got like, all the main food groups.” Sam stepped closer, eyes on the pizza. All that extra cheese Shane added looked so gooey, and melty, and drippy...

“Wow. My eyes are up here.” Shane smirked and leaned elbows on the stovetop, positioned in front of the pizza for the moment. “We should let it sit.”

“Why? It's out.”

“Yeah. And if you eat it hot, you'll burn your mouth.”

“So?”

“So, then, genius, you can't taste the pizza. It's better this way.” He pushed off the stovetop and pressed up against Sam. “You're so impatient.”

“I know what I like.”

“So do I.”

Oh, there was the heat again, and it wasn't just the stove. He glanced over though. “Uh, oven's still on.”

Shane turned and sighed. “I always forget.”

“Looks like I'm not the only one who forgets.” He stepped behind Shane, and this time it was his hands that pinned. Each one clasped the edge of the stovetop, and felt the warmth that still rose up from within. 

Shane craned his neck and regarded Sam coolly. “I haven't forgotten some things.”

“Like what?”

“How about I show you later?”

“How about you show me now?”

“Is that you, begging for it?”

Right. Sam pulled back and circled the table, then sat down, furthest away from Shane. “Nah. Pretty sure I've gone longer than you without sex. I can wait. I'm gonna get you begging.”

“Never happen.”

“Wanna bet?”

Shane stalked forward, and put his hand out, jutting right in front of Sam's face. “I'd love to bet.”

Sam cracked knuckles, then slowly raised his own hand.

A moment later, Shane slapped his hand onto the checkered tablecloth. “Let's set the terms.” Again, he leaned over Sam, like earlier in the day, when he'd all but pinned Sam to the wall without even touching the blonde.

“Like what?”

“I think I can get you to beg for me to fuck you. I give you a week, tops, before you're so needy you don't even care where we are, you beg for it.”

That was honestly hotter than anything he'd ever read, or seen in any of his movies. Sam swallowed. “I bet the same.”

“Then why are we betting if we both know I'm going to win?” Shane smirked and pressed a leg between Sam's.

The chair stopped that leg from going too far, too close. But it got close enough Sam wanted a bit more. “That's not what I meant and you know it! I can make you beg too, Shane.” He stood, and pushed back against the other just a nudge, really. “In a week, I'll have you so needy, you'll do anything to get it.”

“Nope. But I can appreciate the conviction.” Shane tugged Sam in by his collar. They could feel one another, every breath.

Sam leaned in for a kiss.

Shane turned and stepped towards the stove. “Pizza should be cooled enough now. Let's eat.”

Sam knew he saw a smirk. It was there, and he didn't appreciate it. “What do I get when I win?”

“Bragging rights?” Shane's voice was normal again, and he wheeled the cutter into the pizza, making perfectly even slices.

“No, that's not enough.”

“When I win,” Shane used a flipper to put two slices onto a plate, and handed it over to his guest, “you'll agree to do one thing I ask. Whatever it is. Without complaint.”

That was a dangerous win condition. Sam nodded. “Then it's the same. When I win. You'll do whatever I want. One thing, and you can't complain about it.”

Shane blew out a puff of air and hummed. Then he put another two slices on his plate and took them to the table. “You got yourself a deal.”

They shook, then set into devouring their pizza, and plotting out their conquest.

\--~~--

“Sam, I need you to go in back and work on inventory.” Morris didn't look up from his paperwork.

Sam nodded, and stepped towards the employee only loading zone.

Shane worked on his knees, sorting through boxes, and marking things off on his clipboard.

“You look pretty good on your knees,” he said when the door swung closed behind him.

Shane didn't even look up from his work. 

Jerk. Sam moved towards the pallets, and started to lean over to examine what all was inside some of the boxes.

Shane was too quick. Up behind Sam, he whispered, “And you look good underneath me, legs like this,” he kicked them apart, “all stretched like that.” He caught both wrists, and pressed them into the industrial cardboard. 

Sam counted. One. Two. Three. Oh, good, he could breathe again.

As quick, Shane was back to work, on his knees, sorting through various Joja Mart merchandise.

Oh.

\--~~--

Shane reached up and adjusted the final light bulb in the back storage room. His shirt pulled free from his waistband, and an expanse of hair showed a trail down. He carefully began to descend the ladder.

Sam caught him one rung from the bottom, and ground up behind him. “Whoa, you weren't watching where you were going. That's not proper workplace safety.” He tugged on Shane's shirt, and shoved it into the front of the pants, and moved fingers around to seal it in place all the way around Shane's pants. “And you know the rules. Joja Corporation expects tucked shirts. It's in the handout, Shane.” Just like that, Sam backed off, and continued on his way out of the storage room.

He smirked at the door, and offered a simple glance back.

That scruffy red face was satisfaction enough.

Job well done.

“Hey, Morris, I'm headed on break.”

“Mmm, did you finish with--”

“Yes, inventory sorted. Charted everything. Put it in the computers. Everything.”

Morris glanced over, then frowned. “Are you alright? You look a bit flushed. I hope you're not sick. I hate flu season. I always catch something.”

“But you always work anyway.”

“Something you'll understand when you're older. Perhaps. Though, with how your generation is...” He waved Sam off. “Go ahead, take a break.”

He all but ran out the back entrance, into the area behind the store. If he could barely hold out two days, how in Oblivion was he going to hold out an entire week?

Since when was Shane actually hot?

He didn't know, and it didn't matter. He could do this, as long as he kept his focus. And jerked it constantly so Shane couldn't tempt him too much.

 

“Oh, Sam! I'm glad to see you.” Morris caught him on his way back into the building. He tapped Sam on the shoulder and beamed brighter than Sam had ever seen. Except maybe when corporate fatcats came and visited.

That never boded well. Sam smiled and nodded, “What is it, Sir?”

“I appreciate the gumption you're showing. Your can-do attitude doesn't go unnoticed. Well, perhaps in the past it has been. But with your initiative you're finally showing, I'm pleased. So, yes.”

“Yes?” The smile stretched tight.

“I actually very much wanted to go to Zuzu City to visit that new place that opened, Maddocki's? Have you heard of it?”

Morris was more talkative and less making sense than usual. Sam's focus wavered and he just kept smiling and staring ahead.

“Well, I told that chef, never again will you work in this city. Of course, that was before. Then I moved here, and well,” Morris gestured wildly at the store. “Here I am. To stay, very likely. Not that I mind it. This village has its own quaint pleasure to it. The beach is lovely. Sometimes I take nightly strolls there.”

“Right, right, the beach. It's a bit cold out, think we could take this inside?” Sam tugged himself away, and towards the steel door. 

“Of course. I just wanted to say thank you.”

“You're welcome, Sir.”

“It's a big responsibility, but you can handle it. I have the list of closing procedure on the front counter, beneath the red folder, inside the blue one. Take these keys.” He clasped them tight, then thrust them over at Sam, grabbed one of Sam's hands, opened it, and pushed them into Sam's palm. 

He closed his fingers over the keys. “What now?”

“Don't worry. The list will say everything. If you can read and follow very explicit, very detailed directions, then you'll be fine. I'm counting on you.”

The redhead no one really knew stepped out of the door. It slammed behind her. “Can I go now?”

“Oh, yes. We'll both be on our way now, Sam. I trust you and Shane can handle the store. Good bye.”

Morris and the girl went their way, over the bridge, and then separate directions.

Sam stepped inside and moved towards the front part of the store.

Shane smirked at him. “Closing up shop, huh? Guess that means you and I can work together. Alone. Should be good. It'll be a,” he brushed up against Sam, “teambuilding exercise.”

“You told him we'd close up?”

“Not 'we'. You. Me? I'm out of here in an hour. Same as usual.”

And he sauntered off. Actually sauntered.

Sam grit his teeth. “You know, I'm not usually serious about things. But you just got me there.”

“Oh, I'd hate to see what you do when you get serious.” He didn't even bother to look at Sam, he just continued on his way into the back of the store.

Sam followed. “You'll crack, Shane.”

“If you say so.”

He didn't shout. He didn't yell. He just inhaled, smiled, and went back to his job.

Shane stretched, and moved boxes around with a bit more energy than usual. It was a nice show.

But Sam was glad when he left for the night.

Sebastian arrived not too long after Shane left. “Dude, why're you still here?”

“Shane signed me up to close tonight.”

“What?” Sebastian leaned forward over the counter where Sam stood.

Normally Morris' spot, but he figured if he closed up, he could have the good spot. Sam stood from the roller chair and stepped closer. “Yeah. And I need some help. We maybe made a bet.”

“What's the bet on?”

“Heh. Well, that's where it kinda gets funny.”

“Uh oh.”

\--~~--

Sam stepped out from the cold air and into the saloon and headed directly to Shane.

Sebastian had the other in place. And the timing was impeccable.

Sam grinned and watched Shane bend over the table to line up a shot. His lips pressed tight, and his eyes narrowed in focus.

Just as he went to hit the balls, Sam leaned over Shane's body and whispered hot breath against his collar. “Hey Shane.”

The cue ball spun into a corner pocket, and scratched Shane's turn. He grit his teeth, and stood upright. “Oh, hey, you're closed up early.”

“Not really. You just must have lost track of time.” He scooted closer. Hands clutched the pool table. “I wonder how that happened.”

Sebastian smirked and took aim for his shot. “Who knows.”

Shane carefully twisted his posture about until he faced Sam and sat on the edge of the billiards table. “You're in cahoots, eh?” 

“He gave me some ideas.”

“I'll just bet he did.” Shane stepped forward, his leg between Sam's solid spread stance. He couldn't get much more ground, but he took what he could get. “And what sorts of ideas did that little raven head of his have?”

“I could show you, but then you'd have to beg.”

Shane pushed by Sam and moved to the table where his beer sat, condensation thick on the glass. “I would, but, oh, I'm not you. Sorry.” He poured half of it down his throat, then burped.

Oh, that was attractive. Sam scoffed. “Oh, trust me. The things I know to do.”

“Whatever, virgin. You do what you want. I'm just here for the alcohol and pool.”

“Fine.” They'd all play pool.

Sam accidentally rubbed the back end of his cue stick against Shane while he aimed a shot. He watched in a curved metallic mirror in the corner as the stick slid up, and down along the curve of the bulge in Shane's pants. 

“J-just take your shot, you're taking forever.” Shane didn't move though.

“I have to make sure my aim's right.”

“You're still going to fuck up the shot. Sebastian's way better than you at this. I'm better than you. Jas is probably better than you.”

Sam pushed that painted end a bit harder, then slid the stick forward and snapped the balls. Boom, boom, boom. He hit lots of them. But only one went in.

Shane stepped forward.

“See, I know what I'm doing with my wood.”

“You got my ball in the hole, Kid.”

“Oh, I know that.” Sam sipped at his cola and smiled up innocently.

Shane swallowed. “My turn.”

“I'm not stopping you.”

Shane positioned himself over Sam, his body around the blonde. “I want to make the shot from here.”

“The cue's all the way over there.” He pulled himself up onto the table a bit.

Shane advanced, until he was between those legs. “I know.”

“So how're you going to make that shot?” 

Shane chalked up his stick and didn't look at Sam. “Lay down.”

“What?”

“Lay down. I'm going to make the shot.”

Sam giggled and flopped back. “If you say so.”

Shane aimed, he squinted, he made that little grunt he always did before he pulled back and pushed into a shot.

He struck the 8 ball into the far right corner pocket.

“Holy shit, you are the worst at this game.”

“You say, but I can feel how hard you are.” Shane rubbed up.

“Yeah, you say, between my legs. So I can also feel how hard you are. Come on. Being hard doesn't mean that wasn't the worst play all year.”

Shane snorted with disdain and pulled away. “Whatever. I'm getting another beer.”

Sebastian stood beside Sam when Shane moved to the bar. “I give it ten minutes before you can get him alone.”

“Think so?”

“Have I been wrong before?”

“Oh, you really don't want my answer. But I'll trust you on this. What do I know about having a boyfriend?”

“Exactly.” Sebastian pat his back, and helped him off the table. “Just do what I said.”

\--~~--

Just as planned, Shane headed towards the bathroom a few sips in. 

Sam slipped away from the pool game, gave Sebastian a final wink, and followed.

Inside, Shane pressed him roughly to the wall, and flicked the lock with his other hand. “I can't believe you followed me here. I can't even piss without assistance? How needy can you get?”

“I'm not the one who's this hard.” He reached over, and gripped Shane by the front.

“That's because my seduction is way more subtle.”

“Right, a cue stick is less subtle than you whispering into my ears how hard you're going to fuck me?”

A silver smirk, and Shane nodded. “I think so.”

He squeezed. “You're so hard. How bad do you want it?”

“Not bad enough to beg.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Sam slipped to his knees. This was it. The moment.

Shane hadn't expected it. That forced impassiveness shed itself, and reddened. He swallowed thick. “What do you think you're...”

He didn't do more than touch. He didn't take it out, he just leaned forward, and made noises against Shane's long shorts front. His tongue pressed out, and lapped along the zipper. 

Shane blinked, licked at his bottom lip, and glared down. “I'm pretty sure that's cheating.”

“Is it?” Sam looked up with wide eyes, and a half-way parted set of lips posed in a pout.

“Fuck.”

Sam played at the zipper, but never quite tugged it down. Flip, flap, flip. All while he rubbed his flushed cheeks against Shane's bulge, and made the lowest moans he could manage.

“If-if you think acting like a little... a little whore's going to get me to beg, you're wrong.”

Sam continued to work.

“It won't.”

He sighed against the zipper, then carefully took it into his mouth and tugged it down, just a bit.

Shane's hands dug into his spiked hair. “Don't you dare stop.”

Sam pulled away immediately, stood up, twisted the lock open, and left the tiny closed off bathroom. He tried to keep to an almost walking pace, but he felt himself rushing a bit on his way towards Sebastian.

“How'd it go?”

“I think he might want to kill me. You should have seen the look.”

“Might be time to head home.” Sebastian grinned at the clock and nodded. “Definitely.”

Sam nodded back, and pulled on his jacket he'd long since flung over the back of his chair. 

Shane appeared, fresh from the bathroom, that same look burning in his eyes. He stalked over, “Where are you headed?”

“Sebastian's. I'm spending the night and I'm real tired out from a long shift, Shane. No way I can stay up much longer.”

“Right.” Shane nodded, and buried his hands into his pockets. “Well, let me walk you two home.”

“Oh, I don't know.”

“I insist.” He pulled Sam and Sebastian both into a side hug. “I'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with you two.”

Out the door, Shane kept his arm around Sam, but let it flop to the side from Sebastian's shoulders. He leaned in to whisper, “I don't know just how far you're willing to go, but trust me. I'm willing to go further. You will break first.”

Sebastian chuckled and lit a cigarette. It added a faint glow in the dark Winter night. “You two better be careful. Did something like this with Harvey, and it went on for weeks.”

“Ours can only go a week.”

Shane shook his head. “It'll last until tomorrow, tops. There's no way a little virgin like you can handle it.”

“You know, if you two really wanted to... do things. It might be best to do it on a night when your mom thinks you're spending the night with me.” The words wound out like the coil of smoke he blew.

Shane and Sam stilled their crunchy snow steps.

One glance at one another, and then a nod. “That, it could work.” Sam felt that thrill ignite in his stomach, and a bit lower, at how naughty that was.

“If you're not afraid of what your Mommy might think.”

“Oh, I'm not afraid.”

“Maybe I am a bad influence on you. Heh. Good.” Shane slapped Sam at the ass, and turned towards Marnie's ranch.

Sam gave Sebastian a wink and wave, “Good thinking.”

“Isn't that all I'm good for anyway?” He waved back and watched the two go.

\--~~--

Shane stroked Sam through the jeans. “This is what you want, isn't it?” 

“Maybe.” He was fully hard, painfully so, behind his jeans and boxers. “But you want it too.”

“Maybe.” Shane's smirk probably mirrored Sam's. “But I'm not about to beg.”

“How long's it been for you?” Sam pushed back, guided them towards the bed. “Probably years. You've got all those things in your head, and you want it, I know you do.”

“You don't know anything.” Shane didn't fight. He flopped back onto the bed, and positioned himself so his head was on the pillow.

Sam crawled over him. “Admit it. You want me.”

“Maybe.”

\--~~--

Boxers, and only boxers on. Shane and Sam made out, clutched, pulled, bit, scraped. They touched everywhere, kneaded, and needed.

But neither let the words out.

Sweat cooled in the night chill, yet they kept each other sweltering.

“Just... just admit you want inside me...” Sam ground his ass hard up against Shane's sticky boxer front. “Just admit it.”

“Fine. I need it. I want you. Let me in. Please.”

Relief. Sam whined and fell forward. “Please, just put it in. Fuck, just give it to me.”

“Yeah?” Shane wasn't one to turn begging like that down, it seemed. He reached for the lube, and that shiny condom packet he'd taken out just a bit before. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Something like that.” 

\--~~--

Fingers, fingers, ahh, they filled him much nicer than in the chill Employee Break Room.

“You're loosening up nice. That's good.” Rough words, yet so very pleasant. Praising. “You're almost ready, aren't you?”

He didn't know. Yes? He nodded eagerly.

“Good.” A low purr. Shane pulled fingers out of Sam's ass, and lined up his slick condom-clad cock. “Just relax.”

Initial discomfort faded quickly. Shane didn't move as hard as Sam expected, but he didn't mind. It gave him time to stretch, to accommodate such a hefty length. “Slow.”

Shane didn't move for a few seconds, and when he did, he pressed in almost glacially. 

“Faster.”

“Slow, fast. Make up your mind,” He grouched, but did increase the pace a bit. “You're so tight.” 

He grunted and pressed into the pillow. “I. I never thought I'd be doing this. Ask me a week ago. I'd have laughed.”

“I can't say I thought it'd be this either.” Shane began to work into a more steady rhythm of sweaty hips against a pert bottom.

Not that either seemed to mind, Sam a vice on Shane's cock, and Shane so thick inside and touching all the most sensual, sexual places.

It got intense, way more intense than just a hand ever could. Sam whined and bit at the pillow to keep Marnie and Jas from hearing.

“Don't worry. Marnie's in the middle, and she's probably off with Lewis tonight.”

Still. He huffed instead of moaning, and tried to keep his noises far less excited than his body wanted him to scream.

The slaps of flesh were probably the loudest, followed by the creak of the old springs and the light tap of headboard against the wall.

He shut his eyes and buried his face into the soft feathery pillow. “Please, please, please, harder.”

“That's a good angle, huh?” The smirk practically dripped from the words. “Well, I aim to please.” 

Right. But Sam didn't argue, especially when Shane dug fingers into his hips, and pulled him back until he was in the perfect position to get reamed how he needed.

All of it, kisses at his shoulders, gruff words at his ear, touches on thighs, and cock, and balls, and a heavy pounding in his backside.

He came into the sheets with a whimper, and felt his energy slip by with every spurt. He kept his ass up, and just let the pounding take him higher, higher, until he felt like he was floating away.

The slap to his backside brought him back with a groan.

Shane pulled out a few pants later, and flopped down beside him. “That was... intense.”

They were sweaty, and sticky, and just a bit disgusting.

Sam curled up next to Shane and nuzzled against his pit.

“Weirdo.”

“Whatever. You like it.”

“Maybe.” Shane pulled the blanket up over them with one foot and a bit of maneuvering.

\--~~--

“So, who won the bet?” Sebastian was in Shane's kitchen, earlier than he normally would be up, and absolutely not where he normally belonged. He seemed as at home as in his own house. Which was to say, his hoodie was fully zipped, and he held his fists into his pockets.

“Sam.” Shane grunted into the steam from his coffee. “I don't know how.”

“So, Sam, you didn't beg at all?”

“Oh, he begged like a little bitch.” Shane snickered. “I have to hand it to you, you had some good tips.” He winked at Sebastian.

Sebastian winked back.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on. You gave me the tips.”

“I did. Yeah.” Sebastian's expression didn't change, but that tone was familiar.

Oh, he'd toyed with them both. Planned the whole thing, probably.

Sam clapped Sebastian on the shoulder. “You're... this is why. This is why we're friends.”

“You say that now.” Sebastian stepped closer. “But I have to ask.”

“Yeah?” Shane and Sam both asked.

“Was the bet, 'first one to beg' or was it just... if one of you begged at all, within a week, then you get a sexual favor of your choice? Because you both made it sound like that second one when you explained it to me.”

Sam tapped his fingers along the table. “What do you mean?”

“He means, he,” Shane began to absolutely cackle. He flung his head in a shake, and his shoulders rolled into the back of the chair. 

“Shane?” Sam wasn't sure who to look at. Sebastian with his slick smirk, or Shane, laughing harder than Sam thought possible. “Seb?”

“It means, if you begged at all, according to your own bet, you also owe him a sexual favor.” Sebastian had the most shit eating grin Sam had ever seen on his best friend. Even including that one time he'd convinced Maru...

Oh Yoba. It all connected, and he couldn't deny the truth. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Oh, we'll get to that.” Shane seemed to have recovered, and he drank his coffee with the smallest grin on his thin lips. “Trust me.” He set the mug down firmly. “I think it's going to be a great day, don't you?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bets are won (or lost, however you view it) and both settle into what they've won.

“So what do you want?” Sam leaned elbows over steel shelving unit, and ignored his mop.

“Haven't decided. Not gonna talk about it here.” Shane noisily shoved some cans of tomato soup on the bottom shelf. A few shivered, but stayed upright.

Sam sighed, and twisted about, then grabbed at his mop and began to swish it away on the tiles. “Fine.”

It was only after he had left the aisle completely wet except for where Shane was that Shane realized it.

Shane narrowed his eyes, stood, and stomped dirty shoes over clean floor, completely ignoring the wet floor sign.

Sam huffed, and mopped off in another direction.

Half an hour later, Shane leaned over the lunch table and eyed Sam's little mini pizza. “Another pilfered good?”

“No. I bought these. See?” He pulled out the receipt and stuck out his tongue.

Shane snuck in for a kiss.

Sam grinned and wiped his mouth. “You can't talk about what you wanna do here, but you kiss me, huh?”

“Those are different things.” Shane perched himself on the edge of the chair beside Sam, then kicked back and put his feet up on the table. “If you're so bold, tell me what you want.”

“I haven't figured it out. Maybe... maybe something with...”

Shane circled one hand in the air. “With?”

“Rope?”

Oh, that got a reaction. Shane smirked and nodded slowly, “You roped, or me roped?”

“I don't know...”

“Do you know anything about knots? Safety?”

“What do I look like, an amateur?”

Shane gave him a thorough look, from spiked blonde hair, to his canvas shoes. “Yeah, actually. You do.”

Sam huffed, and took another bite of his pizza. He slapped a stealthy hand away and glared. “This is my pizza.”

“And I have four pizzas in my freezer that you could enjoy. Come on, I forgot a lunch today and don't feel like buying anything.”

“Or stealing?”

“Eh. Morris is watching me more than usual today.”

Sam sighed, and pushed over half of the pizza.

Shane moved in to take it.

Sam tugged it back and put an arm protectively over the steaming dish. “First. Tell me what you might want to do.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Mmm, so tasty.” Sam crushed a whole quarter of the pizza into his mouth, and chewed as noisily as he could.

“You probably think I'll think that's disgusting. But honestly?” He moved closer. “I don't care.” He reached for the pizza again.

Sam leaned over it, so Shane couldn't steal.

“Ugh, fine. I may be looking at things online to get for it. There, happy?”

“That didn't tell me anything.” Sam said. And swallowed some of the pizza.

“Kudos. I am actually repulsed.”

Sam choked laughing on the remnants of the pizza and tried to force himself to swallow.

Shane flipped his legs back down onto the ground, then reached over and rubbed him on the back and offered little pats. “Breathe.”

Finally, he swallowed. “What'd you buy?”

“An outfit.” 

“For me, or for you?”

“I guess you'll find out. Or, you could tell me what you have planned.” Shane reached for the pizza again.

“No.” Sam lifted, and pushed the pizza over.

“Fine.” He settled in and ate with Sam.

\--~~--

“So, when're you gonna pull out the rope, huh, Sam?” Shane leaned over Sam and played his fingers over the stovetop like a little keyboard.

Sam grunted and elbowed Shane back. “I'm trying to cook something.”

“Uh huh.”

“And my little brother might be--”

“He's playing with Jas at my place. And Jodie's off with Caroline. It's just you and me, Pal.” Hands shifted, and fingers began to massage at Sam's shoulders. “Just tell me how you wanna do it.”

He didn't fight that so much. He settled into the massage and worked with the eggs Shane brought over. This omelet was gonna turn out great. But his omelets always did. As long as he didn't drop the eggs. “I'm not ready to talk about that.”

“You were the one who was so insistent.” Shane nuzzled, and rubbed his shorts against Sam. “Come on.”

“Nah, I'm making eggs.” Let Shane wonder.

“I got the package today.”

Fuck. “Y-yeah? What was in it?”

“Maybe I'll show you tomorrow when you come over. You'll be there early, right?”

Sam swallowed heavily, and flipped the omelet over. “Sure.”

“Good.” Shane squeezed Sam's hips, slapped his bum, then turned about and moved to sit down. “Looking forward to it.”

Sam plated the meal, cut it in half, and gave a plate of steaming egg to Shane.

Shane smirked, and dug in without another word.

Whatever Shane did, he'd have to top it. He'd have to beat it. 

\--~~--

Shane was already in his chair, situated way too close for it to be medically a good idea, playing a shooter game Sam was unfamiliar with. 

“Whoa. Nice gun.”

“Thanks, I've been working out.”

“I meant... you know what I meant.” He grinned though, shut the door, and strode up behind Shane. “You look like you're having a party.” Snacks on a little table next to the bed. A few drinks. But a messy, messy room. He wasn't sure if the clothes were dirty, or clean, and he didn't mind, but you'd think if Shane knew Sam was coming over he'd do something about it.

“Nope, just you and me today.”

“Your fam--”

“Marnie's out with Jas in the city. Shopping or something.” He leaned back. “Shouldn't be back until much later. Lucky us.”

A box on the bed. Plain brown, nondescript, and yet enticing. It wore a shipping code on one side that Sam had to squint to see. “Whoa. What's in there?”

“Glad you asked. Go on, open it up.” Shane didn't look away from his game. A moment later, he scored a hit on an enemy, smirked, and glanced over. 

The smirk was maddening.

Sam huffed, and stalked over to the somewhat threatening box, ignoring the smug display Shane put on. “Fine, I will.” Rip, rip, tear. Out came the fabric, held up in towards the overhead light to better see.

“Like it?”

“Maybe on you.” Sam offered, and stepped closer. “Yeah, this could work.”

Shane clicked his tongue and paused the game. “Damn, you're right. Unfortunately, I got that a size or two too small for me. Which means--”

“Ahahaha, come on, Shane.” Ah, there came the heat. “I'm not a maid.”

“Mmm, but you've got the cute butt for it. Nice and tight.”

“You don't really want me to--”

“What was that? Was that a complaint?”

“N-no?”

“That's good, because I thought we both agreed no bitching.”

“I still have mine to do, you know.”

“You could probably cancel this out with yours if you really didn't want to do it.” He reached for a can of beer beside him in the chair, then halted his hand, stretched out, and grinned. “Get me a beer when you put that on.”

Sam muttered, “I'll get you a beer. Shove it right up your--”

“And if you need help tying the back, just come over here. I'll help you out, Babe.”

Babe. That hit him where the sun didn't shine, and he sighed. “Alright.” Now just how in Oblivion was he supposed to put this on? All those ties, and ribbons, and a zipper? 

“Don't forget the package.”

“I grabbed it.”

“No, there should be a package inside it. Off to the side, or under some paper or something? They better have sent the whole outfit, I paid a premium for that.”

He huffed, and stomped back to the box. Oh dear. A plastic bag hidden under wrapping foam. “What're these?”

“I'm sure you can figure it out. If not, let me know.” He unpaused, and started in on his game.

\--~~--

Sam grunted, and flopped over onto the bed. He lifted his legs up high, and tried to pull the white smooth stocking down. “This stuff is overrated.”

“You wouldn't say it if I was the one putting it on.”

“I could have that be my thing. Order you one of these, make you clean my room.”

“You could. Of course, I doubt Jodi would ever let your room get actually trashed.” Shane glanced over his shoulder and the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit. “Well now, don't you look pretty.”

“Shut up, you're getting killed in the game.” Sam wiggled the material lower, then sighed and started on the other one. “I have no idea how this works.”

“Well, you look cute anyway. Such pretty little panties.”

“Is that your thing? You like weird stuff like, like... me in panties? And a skirt?”

“And free housecleaning. Yep.” Shane returned his attention to the game, and let loose a round of shots into a robot enemy. It exploded in a messy display of fireworks and flames. 

“Free? Please. This cost you a premium, remember?”

“Oh, the housecleaning's free. But I'd pay good money for the experience I'm going to get.”

Sam couldn't even hide he was getting hard. But it wasn't his fault! That smoky voice had never really meant much to him, until the words became so fixed on him. And now? Well, he tugged the underskirt down, and tried to hide just how hot he was getting.

“Anyway, it might be weird, but you like it too.”

“Prove it.”

“Don't make me go over there and flip up your skirt. That's for later. I want a show first.”

Oh, well in that case. Sam turned away so Shane couldn't gaze back and see his face. He tugged on the dress, and found it stuck at his chest. “Shane? It doesn't fit!”

“Did you try unzipping it?”

Huh. Sam flailed back a bit, and tried to angle and reach with his arms.

“Need some help?”

“No, I have it.” He missed the zipper again in a pass, and couldn't find it. “Maybe.”

The chair squeaked and groaned as Shane stood.

“Just relax. It's tight. They have to use a zipper for it.”

“This is terrible.”

“Shhh.” Shane reached forward and gently lowered Sam's hands. “Just relax, put your arms like this.” 

Out his arms went.

Shane unzipped it.

The white and black frilly maid costume slipped down Sam's smooth body, and floofed out over his petticoat. The zipper slid up quickly with a satisfying purr. “Is it done?”

“Mmm. Do you want tied in?”

“Ummm. Is it optional?”

“Heh. No. Do you want it tied properly, or looser?”

“...Are you actually going to listen if I say looser?”

“Yes.”

“Looser, thanks.”

He inhaled sharply, and glared back. “I thought you said looser!”

“I did.” The ribbons relaxed a little, and Shane tied them into neat bows.

“How do you know how to do all this stuff anyway?”

“Jas. Just... That kid can be really demanding.”

“Heh, see where she gets it from.”

“I'm sure you do.” He swatted Sam on the backside, then returned to his comfortable looking red chair. “You can start getting me a beer, then the laundry needs done.”

“Which stuff? I can't even tell what's dirty!”

“All of it.”

“You wear dirty clothes?”

“No.”

“Then why does it all need washed?”

“I thought this wasn't the bitch corner where you complain.” He glanced to the unopened beer, fully within arms reach. “I'd like a beer now.”

Sam cracked his knuckles, and stomped over to the beer on the table, instead of the one closest to Shane. “Do you want any other snacks?”

“Maybe some pretzels.” Shane's voice was unfocused, and he leaned forward and tapped his buttons harder than usual. “Fuck.”

He shook a can of beer a few times, then set it down and poured out some of the twisted treats into a colorful ceramic bowl. “This is cute.”

“Oh, yeah, those bowls? Jas and me made 'em.”

“Well, here you go.” He traded off the bowl and beer for a nod from Shane, then turned to gather up the laundry.

Pissssssssst. The can, and immediately after, Shane. “You fucking shook it.”

“Oh, was it messy? Man, guess I'll have to really do all your laundry.”

“Yeah, you will.” Shane set the controller aside after a shake or two to get drops of beer off, then glared over. “Undress me.”

“What? You can't do it yourself?”

“Oh, I'm sorry, was that more bitching?” He tapped a foot and stood, hands on hips. “I helped you get into your clothes. It's only fair you help me get out of mine.” 

Well, that was true. Sam didn't have to like it, but he couldn't argue. “Fine.” Didn't mean he had to like it. He stepped closer, and began to peel off Shane's Joja jacket. 

“Someone looks a little excited.”

Sam tried not to react, but he saw Shane's irritation slide into a smug grin, and he knew he was probably redfaced. “Fine.”

“Good.” Shane didn't so much help Sam pull off the shirt, as he let himself go looser so Sam could do all the work.

He tossed the shirt onto the jacket. Then crouched down to work at Shane's boxers. 

Shane's fingers tugged at his thick hair .

He glanced up with a huff. “What?”

“ You can lick me clean after.”

Yoba. He turned his head back down to the task at hand. The task that rose to the occasion. “Looks... looks like I'm not the only one excited.”

“Well, obviously I am.” He stepped forward. “Come on. Take 'em off.”

Down they went, and up sprang Shane's thick cock. 

Sam leaned forward, and licked at the tip.

“All over. You made me wet everywhere, not just there.”

Down the length from underneath, around to the top, circled under, and he began to lick at hairy thick thighs and calves that glistened with beer.

“That's right. Don't forget my chest either. You got it all over me.”

Yes, yes he did. How bad. He kissed at a knee, and began his trail back up those hairy legs and towards Shane's chest. He lapped up beads of beer, and spread his pink tongue out to catch it where it clung to the curls. 

“That's a good boy.” Shane's eyes fluttered shut, and his rumble of a voice leaked arousal and approval. “Lick me all up.”

Sam felt his own cock, unapologetically hard beneath the silky panties. It jutted out, and rose his skirt more than he expected. He moaned, and worked his tongue faster, in hard little dabs at Shane's skin.

Those fingers curled around his hair, and tugged him up. “That's enough.”

Sam grunted and stood quickly. “Was it--”

“On the bed. Now.”

“Thought you wanted me to do laundry,” He grinned and shook his hips a bit as he stood before the other.

Shane began to guide him by the hair and a shoulder. “Bed.”

Sam followed along, with little choice in the issue, but certainly not complaining. When Shane finally released him, he flopped back onto the bed, and lounged on his back, with one leg bent and on the sheets, and the other spread out. “Like this?”

“Not for long.” Shane pounced.

\--~~--

He couldn't let Shane mark him like Shane really wanted to. No hickies on the neck, no scratches on the shoulders. But he was absolutely into the way Shane curled over and sucked at his nipples, and bit at his abs. Nothing hard, but he already saw his skin turn like it'd bruise.

It was great. He wasn't into pain, but being claimed? Oh yeah. Sam groaned, and wrapped his legs tighter around Shane's waist.

Shane broke from a suck, and locked gazes with Sam. “Who knew you'd get off so much on being a maid for the day.”

“The day's still young.”

“You're gonna be my maid all day.”

“If you say so. But I get to pick what you do next, so. It's your call.”

“I'd rather whatever you do, than having to do my own laundry.” He pushed deeper into Sam. “Wouldn't you?”

“I don't...” Fuck. How was he supposed to think when that cock moved in him again? When it slid from constant pressure, to delicious friction.

Shane wasn't always rough. Sometimes, he worked Sam over slowly, carefully. Made him want it, then made him beg. That was probably Sam's fault. He'd been the one to start the bet, and they'd rolled into a routine where begging was usually involved.

That time, Shane was rough. He slapped their bodies together, and tugged all over Sam's costume and skirt, but didn't let Sam take any of it off. Even the panties were merely pushed aside, all to give Shane some room to work.

Shane didn't even worry about how long he lasted, it seemed. He popped off quickly enough, and pulled out with a sigh. Condom rolled, and tossed into the wastebasket next to his bed. “That's all the cleaning I'm doing. Get to work.” A slap to Sam's ass.

Sam would get revenge. He idly stroked his cock.

“Ah, nope. You don't get off until all the chores are done.”

“You'll regret this.”

“Oh, I hope so.” The scruffy man slumped over the arm rests of his plush red chair and set about playing his game. “Start with laundry. Then get back here and work on the rest of this mess.”

“Of course.” Sam moved to gather up the beer stained clothes, then smirked and picked up another armful instead of those. Those, he'd do last.

\--~~--

“Enjoying the party?”

“There's no alcohol and everyone keeps singing.” Shane crunched his cup inward a little bit.

“And you didn't spi--”

“No, I didn't spike the punch. I'm not that big of an asshole, you know. This is a kid's party.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, fu--”

“Fun times, right Mom?” Sam clapped Shane's back. 

Punch jolted over the edge, and sloshed all down Shane's front. “Well, at least I have a bunch of clean clothes now.”

“That was two weeks ago. Two weeks ago doesn't mean everything's clean.”

Jodi moved closer, napkin in hand, “Oh, Sam, you've made a mess all over Shane, here let me get that--”

Sam moved in front of Shane and grabbed at the napkin. “Mom, no, it's fine. I got it. It's my fault. I'll just... go inside while they play, and we'll wash his shirt and I can take down the decorations, ok?”

“Are you sure? That's a lot to do.”

Sam glanced behind, at Shane, then nodded quickly. “Trust me. I've gotten a lot better at laundry lately.”

“Alright, but don't take too long. Vincent really looks up to you, and he'd love it if you stuck around a bit longer.”

Sam glanced over to Jas and him playing pin the stem on the Junimo. “Yeah, they'd be heartbroken, what with not even knowing I'm gone.”

“Don't sass me, young man.”

“Ok, Mom, but I don't want this punch stain to set, so...” He tugged on Shane's arm, and lead him towards his vacated house.

\--~~--

“You're working slowly.” Sam ripped more streamers from the wall, and tugged down a line of shiny plastic letters that explained what everyone already know. 

“Why not? Better than being out there. Hot. Sticky. Bugs everywhere. Your mom kept listening in on everything I said.”

“You cursed like five times. That she caught. Of course she was nervous.”

“I said crap twice. That's barely even anything. I toned it way down.”

“Yeah. But she's... you know.”

“No, I don't really. I barely know her. I guess she thinks she knows me though.”

“She's just protective.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Shane turned with an armful of streamers. “This go in the trash?”

“No, no, we're putting everything in my room.”

“You want, 'Happy Birthday, Vincent' in your room?”

“I figure I can make him a nameplate out of the letters or something. For his door. I don't know, just shove it in there and I'll figure it out later.” He held his own items close to the chest and watched Shane as he went.

Safely alone, he gathered all the supplies. A minute later, he dropped them off in his room and noted Shane already taking a nap on his bed.

Lazy chump. But that was fine. He had work to do.

\--~~--

“Mmm, you're up to something.”

“Am I?” Sam looped the streamers and tied them into place around the bed posts. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe that you've been cackling for five minutes? Or it could be that you're tying things to you bed. Maybe it's that you have that look on your face that says you're up to trouble.”

“Is it a good look?”

“It's the look that got me to follow you past the freezers that first time.”

Oh, yes, then it was a very good look.

Shane sat up and scooted forward. “So, is this what you want?”

“For my thing?”

“I'm guessing.” Shane seemed as undisturbed and unimpressed as usual, except the spark of interest in his eyes. How he watched everything Sam did.

Sam finished up at the bed posts. Two loops, just like above. “It is.”

“At your brother's birthday party? For shame.”

“Maybe. But the party's over anyway and they're going to the beach. It's not like anyone's gonna come back.”

“Oh, sure. But if they did, imagine how bad that would be. Maybe Jodie walks in on me plowing you.”

“Not today she won't.” Sam giggled.

“Uh.”

“My thing, is I'm gonna get inside you.”

“You're just fucking with me, right?”

“I'll be doing a lot more than that.”

“Well then.” He flopped back onto his back.

“And you don't come until I do, or else.”

“Oooh, or else?”

“Or else, you'll get spanked.”

That got a nice reaction. Shane twitched around the corners of his mouth, but didn't let the smile show through. “That right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, can't argue with that.”

“Nope. You're not allowed. Now, get undressed.”

“No foreplay?” Shane teased, and began to shuck his clothes.

“Oh, there will be. Just, not the kind you're used to.”

\--~~--

“If that ice cream so much as touches my--”

“I'm not gonna get it on your junk, just relax.” Sam held the cold spoon perilously close to the tip of Shane's dick, before he smeared it all over Shane's nipples. “Blame yourself for this. I had no idea how hot it was licking stuff off. Or, how cold I guess.” He laughed, and lunged in to lick it all up.

Shane groaned. “Seriously? Jokes. Now?” Though, his tone didn't seem as angry as it might have. He didn't fight at his party streamer bonds, neither at the wrists, nor at the feet. “You're so bad.”

Sam broke off a bite of cake with his spoon and upended it onto Shane's hard nipple.

“Ugh.” He arched a little bit, and lightly turned away. “Come on. That's even stickier than the ice cream.”

“Maybe if you beg for mercy.”

“No. I'd rather let you eat cake.” Back onto his back, and he glowered at the ceiling.

“You like the cold ice cream better, huh?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Your nipples are hard.”

“They're ice cold. You just coated them in ice cream. And then you licked them. How could they not be hard?”

“I dunno. You made some nice noises.”

“I'll remember this.” Shane grunted and pushed up towards Sam. “Come on, just hurry up.”

He wasn't one to turn down cake. He leaned in, and sucked in in the sweet melon cake.

\--~~--

“Fuck you, I'm not begging.”

“Doesn't it count as being part of my thing if I ask you to beg?”

“Yeah? You think so? Fine, that's all I'll do.” Shane offered him one chance. His eyes narrowed in the same warning his tone made clear.

“Go ahead.”

“Oh, please, Yoba, Sam. Do it! I need that nice thick--”

“Ok, ok! Not that loud.” He clamped a hand down on Shane's mouth, and shuddered when a tongue sneaked out and licked him. “Fuck you, Shane.” He pulled back.

“I'm not begging unless I feel like it. You smeared an entire bowl of cake and ice cream on me. I'm basically a saint for not ripping free and making you beg.”

Fair. He sighed and pressed another finger in. “But you like it, don't you? You're so hard, Shane.”

A scoff. “Whatever.”

“I think you like being tied up.”

“I could break free.”

“Oh, obviously. I wouldn't start off with rope. This was... practice.”

“You want to do something like this again?”

“D-don't you? I mean, the cake and stuff doesn't have to...”

Shane moaned. Then blushed and squirmed against Sam's fingers. “No more talk.”

“Fine.” But Shane liked it, Sam could tell. Especially when he acted like he had other things to be doing, like how he did when he looked everywhere but at Sam. 

\--~~--

He couldn't blame Shane that ankle streamers broke. Sam just rolled with it, lifted Shane's legs up, and helped them go about his waist. He panted, and thrust as deep as he could go in a slow roll forward.

“Any faster, and I'll just burn right up, Speedy.” Shane grunted.

“I'm just... trying to take my time. Get this right.”

“It's not a science. Does it feel good? Am I looking like I'm feeling good? You're fine then.”

“Ugh.” Maybe Shane was right though. A bit faster? He pressed in at a medium pace.

“Right. Good. Fuck.” Shane shut his eyes and put his head back against the pillow, relaxed. “Just like that.”

Good. He could do this. Yeah, just, faster. A little bit more. He found a pace that seemed to work, didn't tire him out too much, didn't make Shane complain. He stuck with it. 

“Harder.”

It wasn't a beg, he wouldn't ask it to be, and he wanted to go harder too. Sam grinned, and did as asked. It was, honestly, so nice. Being 'in charge' and seeing Shane all 'helpless' and still following Shane. Even if he was the one doing the fucking, Shane was the one in the lead and it was... comforting? Nice.

He got lost in the rhythm and the way Shane's body was so tight and nice around him. The scents that lingered. The sounds that were sweeter than even his music. 

“Fuck yeah, faster, come on, you can go faster, can't you?”

“Of course I can.” Sam felt sweat slide into his eyes and he tore a hand from Shane's thick hips to wipe at his eyes. 

Shane smirked and stroked at his own mostly hard cock. 

Oh. Was Shane just trying to get Sam to come first so he could? He arched a brow down at his lover. “I wouldn't come first if I were you.”

“Good thing you're not me.”

“Shane.”

“How fast... you're going. It's not like I will. You don't have the stamina.”

Sam reached that sweaty hand down into his pocket. “Oh, fuck, you're right. Here... here it comes--” 

Shane whined and pushed his ass down onto Sam. “Yeah, come on.”

He lay over top of Shane, pushed Shane further into the bed. “You ready for it?”

“Yeah, what did I just say? Hurry up.” Red faced, panting.

“You ready for it?”

“Yeah, come on! Come on!” 

Sam pulled the item out of his pocket, pulled his hand free from Shane's hip, and pulled the party popper. “There it is!” Confetti flew out, and landed on Shane's sweaty chest.

Sweaty, sticky chest.

“Oh, man, looks like you came first. Guess you know what that means.” Sam kept on pounding him.

“Th-that's not fair.”

“Mmm, tell it to the judge, pal. You're getting a spanking.”

“You cheated.”

“And I got a demerit one time at work when I got blamed for your stealing pizzas. Whatever, Shane. Cry about it. When I come, you're gonna be over my lap.”

“Fuck you.”

“Mmmm. Later, probably. But right now?” He was busy. So busy, and so amused, and so turned on. He pulled Shane up into a heavy kiss, and worked himself faster, until he really had to finish.

\--~~--

“Yeah? Are you sorry?”

“Hit me all you want, Sam. I'm not sorry. And right now, my come's on your leg. So.” Shane eased onto Sam's lap and glanced back. Pink assed as he was, he didn't seem to mind. “Harder, Baby.”

“You're terrible.” He couldn't help but grin. “You can't even follow one rule. You had to come first.”

“Eh, maybe you're just really good at sex.”

How. How was he supposed to deny that? How was he supposed to reply? He didn't. He just whapped Shane's ass again. 

“Or maybe you're a tricky bastard and you're going to get it later. I'd be careful if I were you.”

“Like I'm worried.”

“Oh fuck.” A twitch of Shane's cock. Again.

“You're a little butt slut. You like everything.”

“I'm a man of varied tastes, ok? It's not like you, with your sick birthday themed fuckfest, are any better.”

“First of all--”

“Sam, your mother wants to know--” Kent blinked. He stood tall, turned around, and shut the door behind him.

“Was that your--”

“Yeah.”

“Well. That got interesting.”

Sam maybe shoved Shane off of him and pulled himself fully into his pants in record time. Not that there was a previous record, and not that he'd ever wanted to say he could do that fast.

He was out the door and after his father and--

Crashed right into him.

Kent grunted, and caught Sam before he could recoil back. “Hey, easy there.”

“D-dad?”

“Sam.”

Sam carefully extracted himself from those large hands and shuffled a few moments, before he remembered the right posture. Upright, head straight. “I'm sor--”

“I should have knocked. I'm sorry.”

“W-what?”

“A growing man needs his privacy. I... forgot that in the army. And elsewhere.” He looked away for just a moment, then returned his gaze to his son. “I should have knocked.”

“I shouldn't have--”

“It's your business what you do in your room, alone. Not mine.”

“R-really?”

“To a point.” He glanced to the door. “Now isn't the time to talk about that. Your mother wants you and Vincent to make sand castles. She's got Haley taking pictures.”

“O-oh.”

Kent turned towards the door. Conversation tabled, to be brought up again.

Sam turned back towards his room.

“Invite Shane over for dinner sometime. I'd like to get to know him. If he's important to you. I've... missed so much. Missed you growing up. I don't want to miss out on everything.”

“Oh, o-ok, Dad.”

Kent nodded, and just like that he was back out the front door, and on his way, presumably, to the beach.

“Well, that went better than I would have ever expected. I thought you said he was scary.”

“Both of them can be. But. Maybe not.”

Shane put hands in his pockets and leaned against the door frame. “So I'm on the dinner guestlist, huh? Guess that means he likes me.”

“He doesn't know you. So you better be good.”

“Or what?”

“Or I'll spank you.”

Shane cackled and moved to follow Sam out the front door. “Like I'd mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read all the way through, comments are very appreciated!
> 
> I'm Dragon mod over yonder http://stardew-nsfw-imagines.tumblr.com/ and https://stardewimagines.tumblr.com/ Send me and the other mods (midnight and scarlet) some prompts if you have an idea and wanna see it on the blog and here. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Dragon mod over yonder http://stardew-nsfw-imagines.tumblr.com/ and https://stardewimagines.tumblr.com/ Send me and the other mods (midnight and scarlet) some prompts if you have an idea and wanna see it on the blog and here. ;)


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